


A Prince and His Servant

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Horseback Riding, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Master & Servant, Master/Servant, POV Alternating, Prince Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a prince, and Scott is his best friend and servant. Stiles must pick from a long line of royal suitors to marry, but none of them, these strangers, seem like they really care about Stiles. Stiles wants someone he knows, who he can truly love and who truly loves him by his side.</p><p>And maybe that person has been by his side all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the [Sciles Reverse Bang](http://scilesreversebang.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. 
> 
> The wonderful [Ria](http://rainbowbarfeverywhere.tumblr.com/) drew a wonderful art prompt that I was immediately inspired by, so I'm so glad I was able to work with her and come up with a story for her work.
> 
> The masterpost for her art can be found [here](http://anguishofmylove.livejournal.com/9147.html).
> 
> I'd also like to thank my betas [Fea](http://jimmynovakisaved.tumblr.com/) and [Carrie](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/) for their comments and feedback!

“Scoooooooottttt, no more. I don’t wanna!”

“Stiles, sit up. What kind of prince sits like that?”

“One that is bored and can’t possibly pretend to be appreciative of someone else pretending to like him?”

Scott shakes his head, plucking the crown that Stiles has dangling from his fingers as he lay strewn over the arms of his throne, head tilted backwards so he’s looking up at Scott upside down.

“How is that even comfortable?” Scott asks as he leans over Stiles to peer down at him. It gives him a very good view of the few moles under Stiles’s chin and along his neck, and he quickly steps back and away so Stiles can’t see the blush on his cheeks.

“How is this entire thing comfortable, Scott? I don’t understand why I’m expected to just sit here and smile while perfect strangers are paraded in front of me, telling me how wonderful they are and how much they adore me, which are probably all lies, and then pick one of them to marry?” Stiles finally sits upright in his chair, although he is slouching, looking incredibly downtrodden.

“It’s your responsibility as a prince. You have to choose someone to be by your side when it comes time to take over the throne. That’s not something you want to do alone. You don’t want to be alone forever, right?”

“I’m not alone! I have you! That’s good enough for me. Instead of the lord of my bedchamber…,” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows and Scott shoves his face away. While it’s his official title, Stiles rarely uses it because it sounds rather suggestive to the both of them. “I can make you… uh… the guy….”

Scott quirks an eyebrow. “The guy?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and sighs. “You know… the guy who basically helps the King with his decisions. You know, what Deaton does for my dad.”

“Advisor?”

“Yeah! That’s it! You can be my trusted chief advisor, and I’d just listen to you for everything. I do that anyway, so it’s not like it’d be much different.”

Scott snorts as he walks over to face Stiles so he can place the crown back on his head. He takes the time to straighten his robes so he looks a little more presentable. It’s his job, but he maybe likes that he gets to be so close to Stiles all the time. He moves to step back, but Stiles catches hold of his wrist to keep him close.

“You’d say yes, wouldn’t you? If I asked?” Stiles asks, earnest.

“Of course, your majesty.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at the formality, but then he slowly looks up at Scott, his eyes wide and his face vulnerable. In a small, quiet voice he asks, “You won’t leave, will you? Whatever happens, I’ll always have you with me?”

Scott searches Stiles’s face, a little taken aback at Stiles’s question. Stiles looks so open and fearful of Scott’s answer, and Scott hates the thought of Stiles even wondering what life would be like without him (because he hates wondering it himself). He takes both of Stiles’s hands in his and smiles. “Forever, Stiles. I'll be with you forever, or as long as you’ll have me.”

The anxiety that had been apparent on Stiles’s face melts away, and he breaks out into a smile. “I’ll always have you, Scotty,” Stiles says, and it sounds both like a promise and a reassurance to himself of Scott’s answer. Scott tries to hide the fact that it affects him when Stiles says it. Stiles lets go of Scott’s hands and sits up straighter, and Scott steps back from him. “Alright, Scotty, you can bring the next ones in.”

He gives Stiles a small smile and a minute bow before he turns for the door, leaving to bring in the next suitor that wants to vie for Stiles’s hand, attention, and money. He tries to remain calm and courteous because he is only a servant after all. But, he knows all of these princes and princesses don’t really care for Stiles like he does, but there’s no way he could measure up to them. He only wishes that Stiles be happy with whoever he picks and that they will at least grow to love and care for Stiles as he has. It’s all he can do since his station won’t let him wish for anything else, like to be that person for Stiles himself.

Scott has been by Stiles’s side since they were young, becoming fast friends, and has helped Stiles through many things. Stiles is rather humble for a prince and treats Scott as his equal almost all the time. The only times he can’t is when other important people are present and he has to act like the prince he is, while Scott has to act like the servant he is.

This of course is now when Scott has to bring in Stiles’s suitors. They’ve been coming by the droves (according to Stiles) to meet him before the official ball at the end of the month. At the ball, Stiles will announce who he has chosen, and his father, King Stilinski, will give his public and official blessing. So far, Stiles has met with thirty people who have come from all over, some of whom don’t speak English and have to have a translator to accompany them. Some of them are other princes and princesses, and some are nobility, lords and ladies throughout the land, and all seem very keen for Stiles to pick them.

And why wouldn’t they? Stiles is handsome, and humble, and although he is not yet ruling, the kingdom is already in love with him. King Stilinski is a kind and just ruler, and Prince Stiles is exactly like him in all the ways that matter. His mother, the late queen, was beloved by all, and Stiles is every bit of his mother as well. But because the Stilinskis have ruled so well, they have gained a great deal of wealth and respect throughout their land and the surrounding kingdoms.

It’s for this reason that Scott is leery of the suitors who come who don’t seem as interested in Stiles but rather the castle or the kingdom instead. Scott knows that Stiles is smart, if not smarter than him, enough to pick those types of suitors out, but still, he worries anyway. In a way, it’s sort of his job to worry about it. He’s supposed to take care of Stiles, and sometimes that means it requires more than just making sure he’s dressed and on time to appointments.

Scott tries to look inconspicuous as he stands behind and to the left of Stiles, watching as the next suitor and his various servants come in. Part of that means he also has to keep from sighing or rolling his eyes at the extravagant dress and over-the-top gestures this particular suitor does. If he knows Stiles, which he does, Stiles is rolling his eyes and sighing enough for the both of them. But of course, Stiles is still charming enough for the suitor not to notice and for people to still like him even though he is wittily putting them down. It’s one of Stiles’s gifts, really.

When Stiles makes a wave to Scott, it’s Scott’s cue to kindly escort the suitor out of the room and thank them for their time. Once they are out of the room though, Stiles doesn’t see how rude some of the suitors are to Scott. Stiles might treat him like an equal and a friend, but to everyone else, he is below them. Scott never tells the prince about what the suitors say or do around him when Stiles can’t see, although he wants to, and Stiles will more than likely ask him when the day’s appointments are over. He doesn’t want to worry Stiles though, or speak out of turn. What if the person was someone Stiles was thinking of choosing? If he told Stiles, he knows Stiles would immediately kick the person out of the castle, and Scott doesn’t want to narrow Stiles’s choices down because of that.

So instead, he ignores them, calls the next person up and brings them in to Stiles.

After the day’s meetings and Scott has sent the others away to come back tomorrow, he takes Stiles back to his chambers to wash up before supper. Luckily supper is reserved for only the royal family and their close friends and confidants, which means that although many of the suitors are staying in the castle, they have a separate dining quarters and meal time. It’s good because Scott doesn’t want to have to look at or serve those people any more than he has to; he’s pretty sure Stiles is glad of it too if the breath of relief he lets out when they get to his room is anything to go by.

“How much more of this do I have to go through?” Stiles asks once Scott has shut the door and brought over a washcloth and basin of warm water.

“The line was still long when I had to tell them to leave,” Scott says, helping Stiles unbutton his tunic. He’s gotten better these days at averting his eyes when Stiles undresses or bathes. He knows that he would not be able to hide the blush or want that would become apparent if he were to gaze longer at Stiles than he should. Stiles never seems to notice, which he’s grateful for, but he does always want Scott to stay with him rather than give him privacy. It makes it harder for Scott, but how could he say no to his prince and best friend?

“Did any of them look promising?” Stiles is now only in his undergarments, and Scott busies himself with pulling out his clothes for dinner and wetting the washcloth.

Scott hums, “A few. Why? No one catch your eye yet?”

Stiles levels him with a look. “You know as well as I do that none of those people today actually cared about me. I would tell them all to leave and not bother, but I don’t think my dad would be very happy about that.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Stiles accepts the washcloth Scott has held out for him and dabs at his neck and face. He’ll have a longer, fully drawn bath this evening, so this is only to freshen up before supper.

“I don’t see why he won’t let me go out and find someone on my own, like he did with mom.”

“But everyone has come to you. There’s no need to travel to find someone.” Scott’s voice has a hint of fear in it that he tries to hide. He doesn’t want Stiles to leave because it’d mean Stiles would have to leave him behind, and something could happen to Stiles if he was outside the safety and protection of the kingdom.

“I know,” Stiles says resigned. “They all just seem so… fake. How can I possibly pick any of them to marry and be with forever? I want to really know someone before I ask for their hand.” He takes the dry towel from Scott and dries his face and hands.

“You’ll find someone, I’m sure,” Scott says with a small, encouraging smile. It hurts for him to be so positive about the situation, but he can’t possibly tell Stiles not to pick any of them. It’s his future and the future of the kingdom, and despite wanting Stiles to choose him in spite of his class and upbringing, it would be selfish of him to desire that outcome. So instead, he holds out a clean shirt for Stiles, puts on a brave face, and gives him advice.

“Out of all the kingdoms, surely there will be one person that you will like, and you still have a month to decide. There’s plenty of time to get to know someone.”

Stiles nods, watches Scott’s fingers as he helps lace the strings on the front of Stiles’s shirt. He catches Scott’s hands before he pulls them away from his shirt and waits for Scott to look at him. “Thanks for always being here for me, Scott. You’re my best friend, and I’m glad I have you.”

Scott grins, looks down sheepishly at the compliment. He’ll never get used to Stiles being so free in his words and praise of him. When it happens, it makes Scott forget that he is Stiles’s servant.

“Come on. You’ll be late to supper if we don’t leave now,” Scott says, patting Stiles on the chest before turning to take up the bowl and used cloths.

As always, Stiles waits till Scott is done discarding the bowl and linens before leaving. He never goes to supper without Scott, even when Scott insists he go before the food gets cold or the king gets cross. It’s another thing Stiles does that Scott knows will have to stop once he’s picked and married one of the suitors, and he’s not looking forward to that day.

“I see you’ve finally deigned us with your presence,” King Stilinski says when Stiles and Scott finally enter the dining hall.

“Hey, Pops! Just trying to give you extra time to sneak a few extra helpings of roast and bread and butter before I take them away from you because you’re not supposed to be eating them.”

“You’re so kind,” the King replies, sounding sarcastic, but his face is warm and happy. “Hello, Scott.”

“Hello, your majesty,” Scott says with a bow. He makes to pull out the seat next to the king for Stiles, but Stiles waves him off before doing it himself. Then, Stiles pats the seat of the chair next to him for Scott.

“I should go…” Scott thumbs back towards the kitchen, and both Stiles and his father roll their eyes at the gesture.

“Please, Scott, join us. It’s never stopped you before, and I’m sure you’re better company for Stiles than I am,” the King says nodding to indicate Scott take the seat next to his son. “Besides, I wanted to ask you how my boy here did today because I know he won’t tell me.” He pats Stiles on the back as he says it.

“Ugh, Dad, really? Over dinner? I don’t want to lose my appetite.”

King Stilinski shakes his head at his son and looks to Scott, who is still standing hesitantly beside them both. “Son, sit down.” Scott’s eyes widen, and he immediately obeys. The king smiles, “Now, tell me, Scott. Anyone I should keep an eye on? Did Stiles seem like he liked one over the others?”

“You do know, I’m right here,” Stiles says.

The king ignores him and looks over at Scott, waiting for his answer.

“Well, your majesty, I don’t think Stiles cared for one over the others today? But, we still had so many waiting in the hall before we broke for supper. So, perhaps tomorrow?” No matter how often the king addressed him and Scott joined them for supper (which happened more often than not, and something he felt guilty about when the other servants commented on it, though no one seemed like they really minded), it still made him nervous.

The king sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Very well. Let us hope having these people eat us out of house and home will be worth it.”

Stiles winced at the comment, which the king noticed. He patted Stiles’ shoulder, “I didn’t mean it like that, Stiles. I just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah, I know, Dad.” He gave the king a small smile, and the king leaned forward and kissed the top of his head.

“Sadly, I must leave you to finish. I have a meeting. Having representatives from various kingdoms under one roof makes negotiations much easier!” The king lets out a hearty laugh, and Stiles rolls his eyes and shakes his head in fondness.

“See ya later, Dad.”

“Night, son. Good luck tomorrow. Keep an eye on him, Scott.” He gives them a wink and wave, and then he is gone.

Stiles watches him leave, and once the hall doors close, he turns back to Scott with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Uh oh. I know that look, Stiles, and whatever it is, I’m saying no.”

Stiles’s face immediately changes to one of pure innocence like he has no idea what Scott is talking about. “I didn’t say anything. How could you even jump to any conclusions when all I did was smile?”

With a shake of his head, Scott goes back to picking at the food in front of him to put on his plate. “Because I know all your smiles, and that smile means you want to do something that will get us both into a lot of trouble.”

“Oh it does huh?” Now Stiles is grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, and that one means you know I’m going to go along with it even when I tell you we shouldn’t.”

Stiles lets out a peal of laughter. “Scott, I’m keeping you forever.” He looks down at Scott’s half empty plate. “Are you done eating?”

Scott looks down, picks up another piece of beef and stuffs it in his mouth. After he swallows he finally says, “Now I am.”

“Good. Let’s go find Harris.”

Scott groans. “Stiiiiles! Harris is the worst! I thought you just wanted a food fight or something. He’s going to kill us. What are you going to do?”

“Pshaw, food fight? Please, Scott, are we amateurs? No… I may have pilfered these,” he holds up a ring of keys, “from my Dad’s pocket.”

Scott’s eyes widen. “Stiles! Those have all the keys to the castle. You shouldn’t have those.”

“I’m just borrowing them. I’ll give them back. I just need to get into the tutoring room where Harris keeps all his supplies and then into his room where I will show him just how much I’ve learned how to properly mix chemicals.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Scott who bangs his head on the table and lets out a loud sigh.

“I’m only going to save you from yourself.”

“You’re the best, Scotty. Come on, Harris goes for his nightly walk in like 15 minutes, so we gotta go.” He grabs a hold of Scott’s hand and drags him from his chair and out of the dining hall to create mischief, and if they’re lucky, still live to see next week.

 


	2. Chapter 2

As it turns out, Stiles makes a stinky concoction that would rival any skunk and lets it loose in his tutor Harris’s private quarters. He’s sneaky enough that King Stilinski never notices that his keys are missing from his robes, having to rarely use them for himself. When the stench is discovered by Harris, Harris immediately accuses the prince and his friend. While King Stilinski knows Stiles and Scott had something to do with it, he claims that a rodent must have gotten in to his chambers, since he doesn’t particularly care for Harris either. Harris tries to argue the issue, but the King shuts him up by telling him he can sleep in the stables if he continues. (He ends up having to anyway since no one else will offer up their own quarters to share since the smell has leeched onto all of his clothing.)

Stiles and Scott try to hold back their snickers and look as innocent as possible when Harris walks past. Once Harris is out of sight and it is only the three of them in the room, the King turns on both of them.

“I expected better of you two, especially you, Scott.”

At the reprimand, Scott’s face falls and he looks like a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry, your majesty.”

The king sighs. He gives a nod to Scott, which he takes as his sign to wait in the hall so he can talk to Stiles privately. When the doors shut closed behind Scott, the king turns to his son. “Stiles, you’re a prince, soon to be wedded. You have to be an example, you have responsibilities—“

“I can’t have fun, too? It was harmless! The smell will go away by tomorrow.”

“I didn’t say that.” Stiles has his arms crossed in front of his chest, frowning. “I’m just saying that while we have all these suitors here, you should be on your best behavior. I’m sure they’ve heard what’s happened by now, and that won’t make you look good to them.”

“Maybe I don’t care if I look good to them? Maybe I want them to see how I really am? Is it wrong for someone to love me for me and not for my wealth?”

The king sighs. “No, it’s not wrong. I want that for you, too. But, sometimes things don’t work out that way.”

“It did for you… with mom.”

A small, sad smile grows on the king’s face. “It did, and I count myself lucky every day that I found her, that I was able to have her in my life for the brief time I did, that she gave me you.” He looks down at Stiles, brings his hand to cup Stiles’s cheek. He can see so much of his wife in Stiles, and some days it hurts, it does, but not today.

He drops his hand and continues, “But… times were different then. Things have changed, and…” The king sighs, stopping himself, because he can tell from Stiles’s hanging head that he would only make Stiles more upset. He takes his hand to lift Stiles’s chin so he’s looking up at him.

“Tell you what. If, by the end of the month, none of the suitors appeal to you, you can pick anyone you want, even if that means you have to leave to go find him or her.” Stiles’s head snaps up, his eyes growing bright, a small smile forming on his lips. “But, I really want you to consider these suitors, Stiles. They’ve come a long way to meet you, some of them because of their parents and kingdom’s relations as well, just like you. But, son, I just want you to be happy. And if you don’t think any of those princes and princesses can do that for you, than I don’t want you to feel obligated to pick one anyway out of duty.”

Stiles nods, his face serious. “What if who I find isn’t a noble by birth?”

“Stiles, you know I wouldn’t mind. Your mother worked in the fields when I found her,” he smiles to himself at the memory. “Would never let me forget it, too. She hated the fancy dresses my mother wanted her to wear. At her welcome ball, she came down in the dress she first came to the castle in. It was brown and pale blue, made of cotton. It was her best at the time, but nowhere close to the expensive and colorful silks and ball gowns worn by everyone else. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and she looked perfect.”

He smiled down at Stiles, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Did grandmamma make her change?”

The king chuckled. “Eventually. I think she was too shocked at first to take action, and I ignored her attempts to intercept us while I danced with your mother around the hall. I liked the dress she wore better anyway. Didn’t have the giant poofy skirt in the way, so I could hold her closer. She looked gorgeous in anything though, in my opinion.”

“I miss her,” Stiles said, small, quiet, like he didn’t really mean to say it, it just kind of came out.

His father sighed and pulled him into his chest for a hug. “I miss her, too, kiddo.” He gave Stiles one last squeeze and then stepped back, keeping his hands on his shoulders. “It’s been a long day, and we both have a lot to do tomorrow. It’s time for bed.”

Stiles scoffed. “What am I, five? You going to tuck me in, too?”

The king smirks, “No, I believe that’s Scott’s job. Get out of here.” The king shoves playfully at his head, and Stiles goes with it. It’s rare that his dad gets to just be his dad instead of the king these days, and he lives for those moments.

“Good night, Dad!” he calls once he’s reached the doors.

“Night, son.”

He gives his dad one last look and smile, and then, he’s out the doors to go find Scott.

“Are you in big trouble?” Scott asks when Stiles finds him hovering just outside the doors.

“Nah. Why would I be in trouble? I didn’t do anything,” Stiles says giving him a mischievous wink.

“Right,” Scott shoves playfully at Stiles’s shoulder as he rolls his eyes. “Come on, it’s late.” Stiles nods in agreement and walks with Scott back to his private chambers.

Once they arrive, it is clear that Scott has already prepared his bed and his bedclothes. His nightgown is laying out, his sheets are turned down, and there is a glass of warm milk on the table near his bed. Stiles turns to smile at Scott who is standing behind him, his hands held in front of him, his head bowed.

“I thought you would be too tired for a bath, but I can draw one if you’d like.”

“You’re right, I am. Thank you, Scott. Man, what would I do without you?”

“Probably forget everything.”

The prince lets out a loud laugh. “Probably.” Scott proceeds to help him out of his clothes, untying the strings on his blouse and pants to loosen them enough to slide off. Even though it happens every night, Stiles tries to ignore the flustered feeling he gets at seeing Scott kneel in front of him, taking off his shoes, his pants. He tries not to imagine him kneeling in front of him for another reason that involves undressing but is not at all part of Scott’s job.

When he is in nothing but underwear, he steps around Scott to put on his own nightgown, eager to conceal the flush he most surely has on his cheeks at letting his mind wander. He watches Scott collect his soiled clothes from the day and place them in the basket by the door.

It’s about this time that Scott bids him a good night, and he leaves to go to his own room in the servant’s quarters. Years ago, when they were younger, he and Scott would stay in his room, and share a bed. His father never said anything, and neither did the servants. It was after his mother had passed, and they didn’t want to cause more undue stress to Stiles than was necessary. He had needed Scott with him to even sleep, and it was during those few months of nights they shared together that they grew closer, as something more than just a prince and his servant.

With his recent conversation with his father, Stiles is feeling vulnerable, and when he sees Scott pick up the basket to leave, he suddenly doesn’t want Scott to go. He knows he shouldn’t ask; they are far too old to share a bed, especially given the circumstances, but in that moment he doesn’t care about propriety.

“Scott, will you stay? With me, I mean. Like we used to when we were little?”

Scott’s eyes widen, his mouth agape, a slight blush on his cheeks. “Stiles, I shouldn’t. I…”

“Please? You can sneak out as soon as I fall asleep, I just… I don’t want to fall asleep alone tonight.” He knows how vulnerable his voice sounds, hopes that Scott understands why he is asking.

There’s a few moments of silence between them, of them looking at each other waiting for Scott to make his decision. Because it is his decision. Stiles would never force him to stay if he didn’t want to. He’s never wanted Scott to do things he was uncomfortable with, has never used his power as prince against Scott. He would be sad if Scott chose to leave, but he was an adult now, he could handle it, and nothing would change between them. But, he had this small hope that Scott would choose to stay.

After a nod, Scott sets the basket of dirty linens down by the door and walks over to the opposite side of the bed where Stiles is standing.

“I’ll stay till you fall asleep,” Scott says, pulling his side of the covers down.

Stiles tries not to let his smile grow too large with his excitement of Scott staying with him. He slips under the covers on his side and tries to will his heartbeat to slow, for himself to calm down enough to go to sleep as Scott slips off his shoes. He can feel the bed dip next to him when Scott joins him under the covers, and even though the bed is plenty large enough for the both of them, he can still feel Scott’s warmth next to him. Neither of them has bothered to give each other a large space between them. They are both on their backs, their shoulders bumping when one of them pulls and adjust the covers.

The silence grows between them, but before it can go on longer, Stiles whispers, “Thanks for staying. Dad and I talked a little about Mom tonight and… I just…” His voice cracks, and he hates himself that it still affects him so much even though it’s been several years.

Scott grabs a hold of his hand and laces their fingers together. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy to stay, Stiles.”

It’s dark, so they can’t see each other, but Stiles smiles at Scott anyway. He takes his hand with him as he rolls over on his side, so that Scott will roll over with him. He waits as Scott does, scoots over closer to him, his chest pressed against Stiles’s back, a warm, comforting presence. Scott slings an arm around Stiles’s waist, and Stiles relaces their fingers again. It should feel weird now that they are older and adults, but it’s not. It feels exactly right, like that’s exactly how it belongs.

Stiles falls asleep being held in Scott’s arms, his hot breath ghosting over the back of his neck, and he has the lingering thought that he could get used to it, could want it every night, could maybe have it.

He doesn’t wake when Scott kisses the back of his neck before he slips away to return to his own bed a few hours later.

There’s a week until the ball and Stiles’s big announcement, and Stiles is still no where close to knowing what (more like who) he will be announcing. He’s narrowed the suitors down enough for him to spend some individual time with each of them, but it’s not helping him get any closer in picking one to marry.

It’s very stressful, and more often than not Stiles hides in the kitchen so as to avoid any given suitor or his dad. Not that he can hide in the kitchen for very long because Chef Finstock would put him to work, and there is no way Stiles would know what in the heck he’d want him to do. He’s sure if he tried, Chef Finstock would yell at him for not doing it right.

Besides, Scott always knows where to find him, and he doesn’t want to hide from Scott too, so he lets Scott retrieve him for his afternoon ride with Prince Jackson Whittemore.

He follows Scott to the stables where Isaac, their stable boy, has already saddled the horses for their ride. Jackson is off in the distance, waiting for Stiles to join them.

“I had Isaac give you Daisy, but I think he gave Giovanelli to Jackson. So, be careful. If you take it easy, I think it’ll be okay.”

Stiles bites his lip and gives a firm nod. He’s a fairly confident rider, but Giovanelli is one of their newer horses, and he is kind of wild and disobedient sometimes. He hasn’t gotten a good read on Jackson, just yet, but he knows enough that this ride might end in a disaster. Jackson has already tried to show off his “many” skills to Stiles, and Stiles gets the feeling he’ll try something during their ride.

Honestly, he has no intention of choosing Jackson, but he’s entertaining to watch, so he’s maybe strung him along for that factor alone. He knows it’s horrible, but he told his dad he would try, and this looks like he’s trying.

“This is going to be bad,” Stiles says as they get closer to the stables. He can see how restless Giovanelli is next to Jackson, and though Daisy is patiently waiting by his side, she might be influenced later on.

“It’ll be okay. Isaac made sure to tell Jackson about the horse, and he was pretty confident he could handle it.”

“Of course he was.”

Scott snickers. “Would you like me to go with you? I can follow behind just in case?”

The prince turns and puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “No. Thanks, Scott. I’ll… It’ll be fine. Just… uh, be here when we get back? This might end early…”

“Yes, your majesty.” By this time, they are finally to the stables.

Jackson looks rather impatient while Scott helps Stiles with his riding gloves. When Scott moves to assist Stiles in holding the horse while he mounts, Jackson shoves him aside.

“I can handle it from here,” Jackson says, taking the reigns from Scott. Scott doesn’t want to make trouble so he shrugs and lets Jackson take over.

Stiles mounts the horse and looks down, his brows furrowed in Scott’s direction, a silent question. Scott gives him a crooked smile and a shrug. He then asks Jackson if he would like help, to which Jackson practically sneers at him while he mounts his own horse, clearly in no need of help.

The prince hides his eye roll from Jackson, but Scott sees and giggles. He immediately stops when Jackson’s head snaps to look at him.

“Have a good ride, your majesties,” Scott calls, patting on the back of Stiles’s horse. Stiles gives him a wink before prodding Daisy forward. Jackson gives Scott a rude look before leading his horse to follow Stiles’s.

Just as Stiles predicted, they have been riding, making small conversation, for about 15 minutes, when Jackson decides that it would be the perfect time to try to show him how skilled at horse-riding he is. He claims to know how far to push new horses, and that he can handle it, despite how much Stiles protests that he shouldn’t try anything with this horse.

“Prince Stiles, I have trained with the best, I can handle this horse just fine. Just watch and learn.”

“Please, Prince Jackson, I believe you, but I know my horses, and I do not think Giovanelli is ready for anything more than trotting. Isaac is still breaking him in.”

But Jackson has already kicked Giovanelli into a gallop and doesn’t hear Stiles’s pleas. The gallop is fine, but when he tries to leap over a fallen trunk as he comes back, it all goes downhill. Jackson gets thrown from Giovanelli, landing hard on his back, and the horse runs off into the woods. Normally, Stiles would leave the horse and worry about the rider, but he is kind of pissed at Jackson right now.

He trots to where he is laying down on the ground. “Are you alright? Can you move?”

“Yes,” Jackson grits out, already sitting up from the ground.

“Good. Stay there; I’ll be back.” Stiles pushes Daisy to go find Giovanelli.

It’s not long before he is trotting back out of the woods, Giovanelli’s reigns in his hands, leading the horse out. Jackson is standing there, brushing off the dirt and grass from his clothes, and from his stance, Stiles can tell he is furious. If he didn’t have his father’s voice in his head telling him to be nice, he’d make a snide comment, but he’d rather not infuriate Jackson more.

“Would you like to try again, walk back, or ride with me?” Okay, so he can’t help but be a little snarky.

“I’m not getting on that horse again. There is clearly something wrong with it.”

Stiles fights not to roll his eyes at the man who had said moments before that he could handle anything and the horse wouldn’t be a problem.

“So what will it be then? It is quite far to walk, but we can if you’d like.”

“Actually, I would be alright sharing your horse, if you are. We are supposed to be getting to know each other better.” The smug look on Jackson’s face makes Stiles want to vomit, but instead he plasters a fake smile on his face and scoots forward more on his horse.

“Of course. Hop on.” It takes a few moments, but Jackson finally manages to climb on behind Stiles. He has the brief idea to go faster back to the castle, but he squashes that idea when he realizes that it would mean Jackson would try to hold on to him, and he does not want his arms around his waist. As it is, he is sitting close enough, his hand only occasionally grazing Stiles’s waist or hip. That’s really all Stiles can handle right now. So, they take it slow on the way back, Stiles pretending his best to be interested in the long, involved stories Jackson tells him about his achievements.

When they finally get back to the stables, Scott and Isaac are both there waiting for them. Stiles feels a wave of relief and comfort as soon as he sees Scott’s smiling face, and he’s not sure what that could mean.

Scott approaches them, while Isaac takes Giovanelli’s reigns to put him back, and Jackson is the first to dismount.

“You,” he sneers at Scott, a finger pointing in his face. “How dare you let me ride that horse!?” Jackson’s grabbed Scott by the arm and is yelling in his face. “You and the other one planned this, so you could make a fool of me, didn’t you? You should be punished, you insolent little—“

He lifts his fist like he’s going to punch Scott, only Stiles appears behind him, a forceful hand on his shoulder to turn him around.

And then Stiles punches Jackson square in the face.

Jackson falls back on the ground, clutching his nose, which has already started gushing blood. Stiles stands over him.

“You are not allowed to talk to my friends that way, nor are you allowed to touch them. Ever. It is not your place to punish my servants. I do not want to see your ugly face in my kingdom ever again. You and everyone you came with are to leave the castle immediately, do you understand?”

“You’ll be sorry!” Jackson sneers.

“I doubt it. Get. Out. Now.” Stiles is a picture of quiet fury, and even Jackson knows better than to argue. He scrambles out of the stables and fleas to the castle.

Stiles rushes over to Scott. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Stiles touches Scott everywhere, checking for any damage Jackson might have caused.

Scott smiles, places his hands over Stiles’s forearms to stop him. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything… thanks to you. Dude, that was awesome.”

The prince grins. “It kind of was huh? Man, my hand is killing me now though.”

Scott laughs, slings his arm over Stiles’s shoulders. “Let’s go get that taken care of.”

As they walk back to the castle, they can see Jackson and his entourage packing their carriage. King Stilinski is outside, overseeing the proceedings, and to avoid his father’s wrath, he and Scott sneak in through the servant’s entrance around the side of the castle.

Scott takes Stiles to his room so they won’t be bothered, and Stiles sits on his bed while Scott goes to retrieve bandages and soothing balm for his hand.

He’s been in Scott’s room before, but it was a long time ago. It’s small and simple, which fits Scott. For some reason, Stiles feels special, like he’s one of the rare few that gets to be in Scott’s private space. He doesn’t think Scott feels that way about his room, since it’s his job to keep it up, but being in Scott’s room is entirely different.

There are books piled up on Scott’s dresser, ones he’s seen Scott reading, and one of the drawers is slightly ajar, like Scott was in a hurry getting ready this morning. A few of Stiles’s drawings that he had done in one of his classes and given to Scott are hanging on the walls above Scott’s bed. It warms his heart to see them there, that he has a place in Scott’s sanctuary.

He looks up when Scott comes back in the room, a bowl of warm water and cloths in his arms. He watches silently as his best friend pulls a chair out from his desk to sit in front of Stiles. His eyes travel along Scott’s arms and hands while he wrings out a cloth and takes Stiles’s hand in his.

It’s while Scott bandages and soothes his hand, taking special care to clean off the dirt that had gathered through the course of the day, that Stiles remembers the feeling of relief at seeing Scott at the stables. It was more than relief; it was like he was home. He remembers how well he slept that night when Scott was with him, how safe he felt with Scott’s arms around him. He’s always felt safe with Scott, has always been happy with Scott, and if anyone knows him for who he truly is, it’s Scott.

Scott’s his best friend, and he loves him.

He loves Scott.

The thought of choosing anyone else to be with instead of Scott, seems absolutely ridiculous to Stiles now. He’s never wanted to be without Scott, and he’s been an idiot to think he would have to be.

“Scott?”

“Yeah?” he says without looking up as he wraps Stiles’s hand in cloth soaked in a healing liquid.

“Do you… like me?” Stiles feels so stupid asking, but he needs to know whether or not his affections would be returned if he were to admit his own to Scott.

His friend looks up, surprised. “Of course, Stiles? Why would you—“

“No… I mean. Do you like me as more than as a prince or… more than as a friend? Do you like me?”

Scott ducks his head down, his cheeks flushed red, and Stiles can’t help but think he looks adorable.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t. I’ve probably been so obvious,” Scott answers, and he seems so embarrassed and ashamed, which Stiles can’t have.

“It hasn’t been obvious, I promise. That’s why… I was asking. You know I…” He ducks his head, a blush appearing on his own cheeks. “God, Scott, you must know I like you, too. Scott, I…” He looks up at Scott, and their eyes meet. A small smile grows on Scott’s face, and they must have inched forward toward each other during their confessions because they are so close now.

His lips curl up as he admires Scott’s dimples, the way his eyelashes brush against his cheeks when he blinks, how his jaw is slightly crooked, and Stiles imagines waking up to that every morning. He imagines kissing along that jaw, imagines kissing his dimples, his lips, imagines kissing Scott all the time. He pictures lazy mornings in bed with Scott as they curl into each other, Scott kissing his shoulders and neck and back to wake him up. He wants it all, so bad, he wants a life with Scott, one where he is by his side as his equal, his partner, and not as a servant.

“Scott, I am so in love with you,” he breathes out. He hears Scott’s in-take of breath, and he can guess what might follow, what Scott might say about his station or Stiles’s responsibility. He presses on, “Scott, you’re my best friend. You have always been there for me, and I never want to be without you. You make me happy, so so happy, Scott, and that was the only requirement my father gave me when choosing someone to marry. He said I could choose whomever I wanted as long as they made me happy. So…. What do you say?”

Scott’s eyes are wide, but his grin is just as huge. “You love me?” he asks, like he can’t believe it’s true.

Stiles giggles. “Yeah, I do.”

“I love you, too.” Scott picks up Stiles’s hand, the bandaged one, and gently kisses his knuckles. “The king won’t mind that you’ve chosen a servant over all the princes and princesses and nobles?”

Stiles shakes his head. “My mother worked in the fields before she met my dad. I think he’ll understand. Wait… so is that a yes?”

Scott smirks, “I want to be asked properly before I answer.”

The prince rolls his eyes and smacks Scott’s knee. “Fine, you dork.” He stands from the bed to kneel on one knee in front of Scott. He holds both of Scott’s hands in his, ignoring the slight twinge in the one as he does so. He tilts his head up toward Scott and smiles.

“Scott McCall, will you accept my proposal of marriage and become my husband?”

Scott stands, pulling Stiles up with him, until they are both standing close, inches apart. Scott leans forward, his lips so close to Stiles’s that he can just barely feel them brush against his when Scott whispers,

“Yes, my prince.” Then he finally closes the distance and kisses Stiles.


	3. Chapter 3

The great hall and ballroom is decked out in the finest of tapestries and decorations, and there are hundreds of people dancing, talking, and milling about in gowns and suits just as fine as the decor. Stiles doesn’t remember the last time the castle had been decorated so nicely or had so many people in it. In the corner is a spread of food, fruit, breads, pastries, meats of all kinds, that if Stiles didn’t have to shake hands and talk with everyone, he would spending the whole evening standing next to the food picking at it.

But, this evening is all for Stiles. It’s his big night, where everyone gathered is waiting for his big announcement. One that will change his and the kingdom’s entire future.

He’s been quietly freaking out about it all week, and even though he’s confident in his decision, even had his father’s blessing about it in private, he’s still not sure how everyone else will take it.

Because everyone is there. Everyone he’s ever interacted with in his life, all of the suitors that have been staying in the castle, all of the suitors who haven’t. Stiles thinks they will take it well, okay, hopes they will take it well. Really, he just hopes they don’t have a riot on their hands after their big announcement.

“Are you sure we can’t announce it now?” Stiles whispers to his dad once he’s free from speaking to someone.

The king chuckles and slaps Stiles on the back. “Not everyone is here yet, and you know we can’t announce it until later. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.” He gives Stiles a grin, and Stiles tries to return it but thinks it comes out as a grimace. “Go have fun, enjoy yourself. Find Scott,” the king says and then gives him a wink.

“That’s the thing, Dad. Where is he? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, and this would be so much easier if he were here. Did you make him work or something?”

His father shakes his head. “In fact I commanded him not to lift a finger tonight. I’m sure he’ll be down in a--oh well, speak of the devil. Look who’s here.” The king lifts his head to nod in a direction behind Stiles, and Stiles turns to see who his father is looking at.

Walking down the stairs to the hall in a nice, simple suit is Scott, looking rather nervous as he descends. No one seems to have noticed his entrance, and he hasn’t been announced either. Stiles’s entire face brightens when he sees Scott, and all the nervous, anxious energy he had been feeling melts away. He’s always thought Scott was handsome, but tonight, tonight there’s something different about him, a certain quiet confidence he’s exuding since he’s there as a guest and not as a servant.

His dad says something, but Stiles doesn’t hear it because he is already pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring greetings from others, to meet Scott. When Scott finally spots him approaching and their eyes meet, Scott lets out a breath and smiles. They meet on the last step, and for a moment they smile and stare.

“You look… amazing,” Stiles says, to which Scott blushes and ducks his head.

“Thanks. I didn’t have time to get something nicer, so I had to patch this up here and there.”

Stiles shakes his head, “It looks great. You look great. And so hot.” He gives him a wink.

Scott shoves at his shoulder. “Oh shut up.”

Stiles pulls Scott by the hand so they are even closer. He lifts Scott’s hand to his mouth and kisses it. He wants to kiss Scott’s mouth, but he knows they are already making a scene as it is, can feel everyone’s stares on his back. He wouldn’t care, but he doesn’t want to make Scott any more nervous than he already is.

He steps back, letting Scott’s hand fall from his, and holds out his arm.

“May I have this dance?”

Scott gives him a grin and small nod, looping his arm in Stiles’s, letting him lead him to the middle of the floor. There are quiet whisperings from everyone they walk past, mainly of people asking who Scott is and where he came from, and why he was there, but Stiles doesn’t hear any of it and doesn’t care.

When they’ve reached the middle, the orchestra starts a new song, one that’s familiar, and they fall into their dance. It’s one they both know very well, since it’s always been Scott that’s practiced and taught Stiles dancing. It’s almost like a practice session now; everyone around them fades into the background, and it’s just them. And it’s perfect.

At the end of the dance, they are both surprised from their blissful bubble by clapping all around them. The king walks up to them both and places a hand on both their shoulders, turns them around to face the crowd.

“Now’s a good a time as any,” the king says. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my future son-in-law,” he shouts to be heard by everyone. “My son, Prince Stiles Stilinski, has chosen this young man, Scott McCall, to be his husband. Please join me in congratulating these two and welcoming Scott.”

Suddenly, glasses of champagne are thrust into both Scott and Stiles’s hands, and the king has one of his own as well that he is lifting up. Everyone else mirrors the gesture before taking a sip from their own glasses.

Stiles turns to Scott, his own glass raised to him, and Scott grins, clinking his glass to Stiles’s. They both take a sip and then set it down on the tray of a waiter nearby. Stiles pulls Scott in closer to him by the hand, and this time he doesn’t care if they are making a scene.

Stiles rubs his nose against Scott’s and whispers, “I love you,” and Scott sighs happily, his eyes fluttering closed before Stiles presses his lips to Scott’s. It’s sweet and chaste, but there’s a lingering promise of more, more kisses that last longer, more touches that linger, more time spent alone, and more years of being together, growing older side by side as equals, as lovers, as something more than what they’ve been.

And it’s that promise of more that Scott has always wanted and that Stiles is more than happy to give so that they can live together happily ever after.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please go send [Ria](http://rainbowbarfeverywhere.tumblr.com/) tons of love for her wonderful art for this story. I hope you guys enjoyed my first ever Skittles (Scott/Stiles) fic!
> 
> Come say hi and fangirl with me on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


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